


Red.

by mothdotjpeg



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, One Shot, Tired Will Graham, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, idk they talk about color
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27222751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothdotjpeg/pseuds/mothdotjpeg
Summary: "What's your favorite color?" Hannibal chuckled softly, hand still holding Will's gently, as to not intrude."Red." Will grunted and rolled his eyes, face cracking as he read Hannibal's confused reaction."The cannibalistic serial killer likes red, oh like blood! And meat?"|| Hannibal asks Will what his favorite color is. ||
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82





	Red.

"What's your favorite color?" Hannibal asked one evening as Will laid on their couch, eyes shut, head buzzing.   
"Hm?" He hummed in response, turning onto his back to get more comfortable.   
"I asked what your favorite color was, mylimasis." He was looming over the couch, casting a shadow over Will's face that made his head drift farther away. After being met with silence, Hannibal shook his head and moved back to the kitchen table across the house, letting the living room light remind Will he was sadly still awake.   
"Hhmph," He stirred, sitting up slightly to see Hannibal settling on a wooden chair, paper strewn over the table. That's not what he was doing when Will had lain down earlier because of his headache, he must've fallen asleep. "I don't know."   
Hannibal looked up to meet Will's eyes, a comfortable connection between the tired men. It was weird to see Hannibal in such a normal spot, nothing fancy or perfect. A shitty kitchen table the house came with, mismatched chairs to go with. It made Will almost miss his home in Wolf Trap, he didn't think he missed that though.   
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Hannibal had tucked his feet under his body to hold the warmth in, it looked childish and friendly. There was a familiarity to the sight, as though it had happened before and would happen again. Nothing to be said about the matter. Will groaned as he fully sat up and laid his head against the back of the couch, looking at the shadows cast on the popcorn ceiling. Hannibal Lecter lived in a house with popcorn ceiling and with a living room lit by 80s lamps. Will smiled to himself.   
"Oh well," he turned back to look at his husband. "I don't think I have a favorite color." He could've sworn he saw Hannibal almost scoff, but he hid his reaction with a smile.  
"That's strange." Was it? Will shook his head and looked at his hands in his lap. It was getting quite cold recently and their small house was only being warmed by a fire Will had built earlier that night.   
"Is it?" Will questioned, sitting up straighter and stretching his back like a cat. Hannibal watched gently, his eyes tracing Will's form. "I guess I never thought it mattered much." He shrugged and pushed himself off the couch to trail to the wooden table his partner was resting.   
"It doesn't, I suppose." Hannibal looked up as Will settled in front of the chair, hands in his pockets and soft smile on his face. He wanted to reach out and touch Will, instead he admired the slight bed head, the curls falling in his face.   
"It matters to you." The tone in Will's voice made Hannibal soften, his maroon eyes melting with affection. Will reached out a hand and ruffled Hannibal's hair, he didn't miss the gel.   
"It doesn't matter much, you don't need a response." Hannibal caught Will's hand as it retracted from his hair and kissed his knuckles gently. He flushed red, eyes crinkling around the edges.   
"If I was asked in a get-to-know-you game I always said blue." His eyes darted around, not meeting Hannibal's as he thought. "But I don't think that it's my favorite." Still lost in thought, he met Hannibal's eyes for some comfort and was met with a silent understanding. "What's your favorite color?" Hannibal chuckled softly, hand still holding Will's gently, as to not intrude.  
"Red." Will grunted and rolled his eyes, face cracking as he read Hannibal's confused reaction.   
"The cannibalistic serial killer likes red, oh like blood! And meat?" His tone was jokingly rude, he liked getting on Hannibal's nerves. The serial cannibal didn't budge nor laugh, just kept his eyes on his husband as he spoke.   
"Like the color of your face when I press a kiss to your skin. The warmth under your skin when my hand finds relief in your flesh. That red." The words made Will still completely, silenced by the affection in Hannibal's voice. He blushed, face flushing as if to prove the point, and then he laughed embarrassedly for having proven the point, trying to hide his face by turning to find something else to look at. Something other than the love in Hannibal's eyes.   
"Ew, such a romantic." He teased, letting Hannibal let go of his hand to place his palm under Will's shirt.  
"Red like the scar tissue of your skin, in the places that I marked you." Will shivered as Hannibal traced his thumb over the smile on his stomach, flinching at the associated pain to the touch. He didn't mind, placing his hand over Hannibal's to keep it there.   
"And yes, mylimasis, red like the blood that you spill. The blood you spilled and stained the floor with, my fault of course, but also the blood you spill when I bite too hard, though that's my fault too." Will was silent, at a loss for words as Hannibal finished. "That's why red is my favorite color." Their eyes met and Will groaned, pulling Hannibal out of his cozy spot on the kitchen chair.  
"You speak too well." He buried his face into Hannibal's sweater, sighing into the warmth of the bigger man. They stood in each other's embrace for a minute, breathing each other in as thought they didn't coexist. As if they didn't live in each other's bodies and minds. Like every touch was their first and last. It was so domestic, Will thought.   
"If I had to pick," Will muttered into Hannibal's shoulder, wanting nothing more than to kiss him as they stood in their small suburban kitchen. "I'd say my favorite color is gray." Hannibal hummed in response, hands trailing up and down Will's back to warm him up.   
"Like my hair?" He laughed into Will's hair. Will huffed annoyed.  
"Yes! Like your hair." Hannibal pulled back and brought a hand to his husband's face. "I'm not a romantic, sorry." Will's lips turned up in a smile as he joked, but something behind his eyes told Hannibal he wanted validation. Hannibal leaned in to kiss him, gently, letting the red feeling spread throughout his own body. It was short and sweet, as Hannibal pulled back.   
"I never asked for romance Will. Just you, only you."

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a hot minute! Excuse my absence recently I've been a busy boy, but I hope you enjoy this one shot I just wrote in one go at 12am~


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